


Some Bruise More Easily

by lionessvalenti



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Bruises, Community: kink_bingo, Episode: s01e06 Countrycide, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-28
Updated: 2009-07-28
Packaged: 2017-11-02 12:51:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/369166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionessvalenti/pseuds/lionessvalenti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Toshiko stays with Ianto after the events at Brecon Beacons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Bruise More Easily

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Lefaym for beta reading!

Toshiko watched Ianto's hands shake as he tried to fit the key into the lock. She was just about to gently take the key from him when it slid into place and he turned the lock.

"I'll put the kettle on," he said as they walked into the flat. She followed him into the small galley kitchen. It had the whitewashed look of a new flat before the tenants decorated it to their liking.

For a moment, Toshiko wondered if Ianto should be doing anything that will deal with hot water after the incident with the keys, but if there was anything he could do, even in a concussed haze, it was make a pot of tea.

She was still glad, though, Jack suggested she drive Ianto home.

"See him to the door," Jack had said to her. Ianto had looked at Jack with an expression Toshiko couldn't quite place while Jack seemed to be making a point to not look at him at all.

It was in the car, about halfway between Ianto's building and the Hub that Ianto turned to her and said, "You can stay, if you want."

"I'd like that," she had replied, sensing he wanted to be alone about as much as she did.

Toshiko looked at Ianto now, as he filled the kettle with water. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, he said, "Bath's down the hall, and the towels are on the shelf. There's a dressing gown on the back of the door you can wear. I'll put your clothes in the wash."

Clearly, a head injury couldn't keep Ianto from knowing what anyone needed before they could voice it. Still in her dirty clothes from the night before, she hadn't even thought of what she was going to put on after taking a shower.

"Thanks," Toshiko replied quietly before slipping out of the kitchen. She looked around as she walked through the flat. It all had that bare look about it. No wonder Ianto was the first in and the last to leave (except for Jack), his flat was simply depressing.

Deciding not to nose around any further, Toshiko went for the bathroom and turned on the water. She stripped out of her grimy clothes and piled them up on the floor, kicking them into a corner.

She stepped under the hot spray and moaned out loud. She rolled her neck, letting her muscles finally unwind and relax for the first time since the trek from the campsite to the village. As the water rolled down her face, she could taste the dirt against her lips and she spat onto the floor of the shower. She looked down at the brown water around her feet.

_Is that all coming off of me?_ she wondered, and realized it was a stupid thought.

Toshiko inspected the bath products in Ianto's shower. He didn't have much of a selection, though she was pleased to find a bottle of body wash, rather that a bar of soap. There was something far too personal about using someone else's bar of soap.

After washing herself three times, making sure all the dirt was out from under her nails and every crevice of skin at her elbows, she shut off the water and reached for a towel on the shelf above the toilet.

"Oh god," she mumbled, looking in the mirror at herself, unable to avoid the sight of the dark bruises around her neck. She took a deep, steadying breath in an attempt to slow her heart that had suddenly started to pound. She hadn't noticed them when Owen looked her over. Were they hiding beneath all the dirt? She could feel those hands around her neck, pressing down, and the way his hand gripped her breast and his hot breath against her face.

She slipped on the white tile as she fell to her knees to retch into the toilet, though with her empty stomach it was mostly dry heaving. Cannibalism and the dead bodies in the forest and in the fridge she could cope with, but not the hands on her.

Toshiko refused to let her mind wander to the what-ifs and how much worse it _could_ have been. She flushed the toilet and got up to rinsed out her mouth with clean, cold water.

She turned to the door and found two dressing gowns hanging off the hook. One was a red terrycloth and the other was blue cotton with a print of large white flowers. Toshiko reached for the flowered gown when she realized that it must have belonged to Lisa. Putting it on seemed disrespectful. Did he mean for her to wear his dressing gown? Toshiko felt a moment of pain, or possibly pity, for Ianto as she realized Lisa never even lived in this flat.

After a few more moments of internal debate, Toshiko put on the blue dressing gown; its hem falling almost to her ankles as she tied it tightly around her waist.

"Ianto?" Toshiko called as she walked the hall back to the kitchen. "I'm done."

Ianto looked over his shoulder at her. He smiled for an instant, then turned to face her. "Tea's steeping. I don't know if you're still hungry, but there's-"

"Ianto," she said as gently as possible, "we're not at work. We're in your home. You don't need to take care of anything. I feel a lot better after showering – you might want to do the same."

His shoulders dropped. "I suppose, yeah, that's..." He started down the hall, and turned for a moment to motion back to the kitchen. "Help yourself," he said, before disappearing into the loo.

Toshiko poured herself a cup of tea, added sugar, and took a tentative sip. The tea felt good and hot down her throat. As it reached her stomach, she was suddenly ravenous. Of course she was, she hadn't eaten since breakfast the day before, and a buttered croissant wasn't meant to keep anyone going for over twenty-four hours.

She reached for the handle of the fridge and wondered if it was all right to go through Ianto's food. He said to help herself, but she still couldn't help feeling intrusive.

She smiled, relieved, when she spotted the takeaway menus sitting next to the toaster. Her eyes lit up; the sound of chicken and vegetables with fried rice was mouth-watering. She drummed her fingers against the laminate countertop, waiting for Ianto to be done in the shower. She figured it would be rude to order food without asking if he wanted any first.

Finally, she heard the door to the bathroom open.

"Ianto?" she said, letting her voice raise. "I found a takeaway menu, do you – oh!"

She had been expecting either Ianto to not appear at all, or at least be wearing the red dressing gown, but he stood in the doorway to the kitchen wearing nothing but a white towel around his waist.

"Jesus," Toshiko mumbled. She stepped forward, not thinking, and reached her hand out to Ianto's chest. It was mottled with bruises, some were small, but there were several that were large and quite nasty-looking. Her hand stopped inches from his skin, but she didn't quite lower it.

"Where he kicked me," he said, running a hand across his bruised ribs. He raised his hand to the cut on his forehead, surrounded by purple bruising. "Then she knocked me out, and I don't remember much after that. I'm not sure where the rest of them came from, but I'm used to that. I bruise easily."

"It looks horrible."

Ianto shrugged. "Owen said I was fine, except for the concussion. Bruises fade."

"Do they hurt?"

"Like hell."

She smiled at his matter-of-fact tone. She finally lowered her hand, realizing it was strange to let it hang there. "I, uh, found takeaway menus. How does Chinese sound? My treat."

"Sounds fine," Ianto said. "Vegetables in garlic sauce and prawn curry, if you don't mind placing the order."

"Not at all," Toshiko replied.

"Just give them my name. I'm in their database."

"Order a lot?"

He nodded. "More than I'd like to admit. I'm not a cook."

"Me either," she said. She wavered for a moment, not really wanting to move and find her phone to make the call. This was possibly the longest conversation she'd ever had with Ianto that didn't involve the Rift manipulator or alien computer viruses.

"I should put on some pants," he said, slowly backing up.

For an instant, Toshiko wanted to tell him that he didn't have to, but she felt herself blush just thinking about it, and the retort died on her tongue. "I'll... I'll make that call."

In spite of the size of the small flat, Toshiko was able to successfully avoid Ianto until the food arrived. He seemed to have holed up in his bedroom, perhaps looking for some extra space himself.

She spread things out across the coffee table, one of the few pieces of furniture in Ianto's living room. She heard a floorboard creak, and she looked up to see Ianto walk into the room. He was wearing pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. Better than a towel, but still so far away from the suits so was accustomed to seeing him wear.

"Smells delicious," he said, sitting down on the sofa.

"I also ordered spring rolls and a couple bottles of pop," Toshiko said, opening up the carton and holding it out to him.

"Fantastic. Thank you, Tosh."

She sat down and they ate in near-silence, their mouths almost always full. Conversation was limited to "do you want my onions?" and "pass the soy sauce".

Finally, Toshiko set down her mostly-empty carton. "No more. I'm full. Do you want the rest of this?"

"No, thanks, I've plenty," Ianto replied. "I actually think I got too much."

"Then you'll have some for later," Toshiko said. She leaned forward to fold together the lid of the carton, and Ianto reached over, carefully taking her arm. He ran his fingers lightly across the rope burns around her wrist.

She smiled. "Like you said, it will fade. Feels nice, though."

"Rope burn?" Ianto asked with a smirk.

"No, your – your-" Toshiko motioned to Ianto's hand on hers. "It's something else to think about when I see them."

He smiled at her, then lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against the back of her wrist.

She pulled her hand away. "You have a head injury. You – you're not thinking straight."

"Maybe," Ianto replied. He reached up, turning slightly in his seat, and ran his fingers along her neck. "What about these?"

"What about them?"

"What are you thinking about them?" His fingers curled around the back of her neck and he stroked his thumb across her throat. His hands seemed steady now.

Toshiko swallowed. "Nothing. You."

Ianto leaned forward and kissed her neck, his lips pressing against the bruise. "And now?"

Her heart started pounding again. She was sure Ianto could hear it. "You," she whispered. She lifted her hand and carefully touched the wound on his forehead.

He looked up. "I'd like to kiss you."

"Yes. Please," Toshiko replied, and he did, softly at first, then slowly becoming more heated.

She tried not to think about how he had a head injury, how much younger he was, how a knife had been at his neck, and how they were co-workers. There were so many reasons he was doing this and so many more reasons why it was bad idea. She tried not to think about it. She tried to concentrate on how good it felt to kiss someone when she hadn't had a snog since Christmas.

Toshiko slid her hand down Ianto's arm until she found his hand and brought it to her breast. If he could imprint new memories on her wrist and neck, maybe he could do the same there.

Ianto pulled back. He considered her for a moment, this thumb playing with the edge of the fabric. He swallowed and asked, "May I?"

"Yes."

He slowly opened the dressing gown, exposing her breast. He placed his cheek against it for a moment, and Toshiko gasped. The stubble was rough, but it felt good. As she threaded her fingers through Ianto's hair, Toshiko realized she was going to sleep with him.

"Oh god," she mumbled. "Oh god."

Ianto closed his lips around her nipple and tugged on it, his tongue running around the tip.

Toshiko laid her head back and moaned. "Ianto?"

"Mmm, yes, Lisa?"

They both froze, and Ianto sat up and turned away, sitting down properly on the sofa, his hands resting on his knees. Toshiko pulled the dressing gown over her breast, making sure she was fully covered again.

"I'm sorry," Ianto said, looking at the floor.

"It's all right," Toshiko replied.

"I am – I'm – between the dressing gown and... I haven't... with..." Ianto let his voice trail off. He didn't need to say anything else. She got the picture. He swallowed and added, "That's no excuse."

She shrugged. "It's fine," she mumbled, pulling the gown closed even more, holding her hand against her chest.

"It's not," Ianto insisted. When she didn't reply, he seemed to give up on waiting for her to yell at him, or whatever it was he seemed to expect. "I lied, you know. Yesterday."

Toshiko turned her head to look at him. "When?"

"The game. About the snogging."

"Why?"

Ianto shrugged. "I didn't want anyone to know the last person I snogged was - was Jack."

Toshiko's eyes widened with surprise, though news wasn't exactly shocking. It explained a lot, really. The way Ianto watched Jack while Jack pointedly turned away, along with the flirtation that seemed to extend to Ianto more than the others. She tilted her head to the side and asked, "When was that, then?"

"Six weeks ago? Before. It happened... several times. It wasn't anything, just... just sex." Ianto looked down at his hands. "It doesn't really matter, I suppose."

"Why are you telling me this?"

He glanced up at her. "I don't know. Maybe if I tell you enough embarrassing things about myself you'll forget the one that just happened?"

"Sleeping with Jack is embarrassing?" Toshiko asked.

"Admitting to it is."

She hesitated, and tried for a bit of a joke, just to lighten the suddenly heavy mood. "I guess that settles the debate on Jack's sexuality."

Ianto laughed. "Not really, no."

They fell into silence, and Ianto rested a foot on the coffee table, pushing an empty food carton forward with his toe.

"I'm exhausted," Toshiko said. She hadn't slept, except for a maybe an hour on the ride home from the Beacons.

"I'll take the couch," Ianto said quickly. "I need to be up every few hours anyway, to make sure I can remember who the Prime Minister is."

She reached over and put her hand on his arm, feeling surprisingly confident. "You can still come to bed with me. I can even hold up some fingers so you can count them."

He smiled. "Are you sure?"

"I insist."

Ianto leaned toward her, but only made it halfway before he hissed with pain, and backed off, clutching his ribs.

"You all right?" Toshiko asked.

He nodded and forced a grin. "I told you, hurts like hell."

She lifted his t-shirt to expose the bruises and swiped her fingers over them. With trepidation, Toshiko leaned forward and placed a kiss next to the especially dark bruise on his ribs. She peered up at a surprised Ianto and smiled. "Let's try this again, shall we?"

"Are you... sure?" Ianto asked for a second time.

Toshiko touched his cheek. "Yours might be more obvious, but we all have bruises, Ianto."


End file.
